THE DUNWICH BUILDING – The Ultimate Fallout 51:13

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Its corridors whisper secrets of realities best left unexplored. And those who venture inside rarely emerge unchanged. Some say it's just an old office building. Others claim it's a doorway to unspeakable horrors. But all agree, once the Dunwich gets inside your head, it never truly leaves.

Welcome to Destination Terror, your passport to the scariest places in the world. From haunted hotels to locations of unexplained creature sightings, and places that we only visit in our imagination, we will travel to places that will provide excitement, adventure, and horror.

Today we are visiting the Dunwich Building, a location in the video game Fallout 3, known for its creepy atmosphere and Lovecraftian horror elements. So if you're into travel and all things scary, listen close and you might just discover your next exciting adventure destination. But hopefully not your final destination.

Destination Terror is an EerieCast original podcast hosted by me, Carmen Carrion. If you would like to send us a suggestion or submit a story with your own experience, you can email them to carmencarrion at gmail.com or follow me on X at Carmen Carrion. If you enjoy this show, please follow and rate Destination Terror on Spotify and Apple Podcasts to help us grow.

Also, check out eeriecast.com for more scary podcasts, such as Freaky Folklore, the podcast where together we explore horrifying legends across the world and tell terrifying tales of monsters both ancient and modern.

Ewan slipped on his sleek AR glasses, a grin spreading across his face as the startup sequence flashed before his eyes. At 28, he was part of the generation that had grown up with technology as a sixth sense. Augmented reality wasn't just a novelty, it was as natural to him as breathing.

The world around him transformed, his modest studio apartment overlaid with the gritty post-apocalyptic aesthetic of the newest Fallout AR game. Dust motes danced in simulated sunbeams streaming through bombed out walls, while the distant sound of wind whistling through broken windows added an eerie ambience. "Now this," Ewan muttered, "is what I call immersion."

He had been counting down the days to this launch, refreshing game news sites and devouring every leaked detail. Fallout had always been his escape, a digital wasteland where the complexities of real life faded away. Now, that wasteland was seeping into reality itself. Outside, the streets of Seattle were alive with similar scenes.

Clusters of gamers huddled on corners, their eyes wide behind AR glasses as they marveled at the transformed cityscape. Sleek skyscrapers now appeared as rusted, crumbling towers. Bustling cafes were reimagined as makeshift shelters, their patrons unknowingly cast as wasteland survivors in a thousand different storylines. Ewan stepped out onto his balcony, breath-catching as he took in the vista.

The Space Needle, that Icon expired, now looked like a precarious relic of a fallen civilization. He could almost believe that the world had really ended. That he was one of the lucky, or unlucky, few to survive. A notification pinged, drawing his attention to a pulsing icon on his minimap. "New location discovered," it read. "Dunwich Building."

Ewan's heart raced. He knew the lore, the creeping dread associated with the name in Fallout history. To have it here, in his city. The temptation was irresistible. "Time to see how deep this rabbit hole goes," he said, already plotting his route. Little did he know, as he set out with excitement bubbling in his veins, that he was about to step into a nightmare far more real than any game he could devise.

Ewan's footsteps echoed off cracked pavement as he navigated the transformed streets of Seattle. In reality, it was a sunny afternoon in Pike Place Market, but through his AR lenses, the vibrant farmer's market had become a makeshift trading post in the wastes. Tourists haggling over fresh produce appeared as wastelanders bartering for irradiated rations.

The Dunwich Building marker pulsed insistently on his HUD, guiding him towards the waterfront. As he approached, a decrepit structure began to materialize where the Seattle Aquarium should have been. Its walls were a patchwork of crumbling concrete and rusted metal, windows dark and foreboding. A chill ran down Ewan's spine despite the warm day. "Wow! The detail on this is insane!"

he murmured, reaching out to touch a wall. His fingers met the smooth glass of the real aquarium, but his eyes saw them sink into pitted concrete. The dissonance was dizzying. A notification popped up. Warning. Entering high-level area. Proceed with caution. Ewan grinned, adrenaline surging. This was what he lived for, the thrill of the unknown, the edge of danger.

All from the safety of augmented reality. He stepped through the entrance, the real-world ticket booth overlaid with an ominous, yawning doorway. Inside, the AR transformation was complete. Gone were the colorful exhibits and tourist families. Instead, Ewan found himself in a dimly lit lobby, decay and abandonment evident in every corner.

Shadows seemed to move at the edge of his vision, and distant sounds, scrapes, thuds, and what might have been whispers set his nerves on edge. Hello? He called out, unsure if he was addressing other players or NPCs. No response came. As he ventured deeper, the AR began to glitch. Images flickered. Textures warped.

And for a split second, Ewan swore he saw something that didn't belong in the game. A symbol, eldritch and unsettling, burned into his vision. Suddenly, a piercing shriek filled his ears. Ewan stumbled, tearing off his AR glasses. But the sound didn't stop. The Dunwich Building remained, superimposed over reality.

With dawning horror, Ewan realized the glasses were off. But the nightmare was still there. Ewan's heart raced as he blinked rapidly, desperately trying to dispel the nightmarish vision before him. But no matter how many times he opened and closed his eyes, the decrepit halls of the Dunwich Building remained stubbornly superimposed over the Seattle Aquarium's exhibits. "This can't be happening," he muttered, his voice trembling.

Fumbling with shaking hands, he reached for his phone to call for help. The device flickered to life, but instead of his familiar home screen, he saw a battered Pip-Boy interface. Panic surged through him as he realized he couldn't access his contacts or dial out.

A family of tourists walked by, their forms flickering between normal appearances and grotesque, irradiated wasteland denizens. They gave Ewan a wide berth, eyeing him warily as he stood frozen in the middle of the corridor, eyes wild and hands grasping at thin air. Hey, can you see this? Ewan called out, his voice cracking. The building! The wasteland! It's all around us!

But the family hurried away, the parents pulling their children close protectively. Sweat beaded on Ewan's forehead as he spun around, taking in the impossible blend of reality and digital horror. Fish tanks morphed into mutant containment units. Cheerful informational plaques twisted into warning signs about radiation zones. The gentle lapping of water against glass became the ominous drip of toxic sludge.

In a burst of desperate inspiration, Ewan clawed at his eyes, thinking perhaps the AR lenses had somehow fused to his corneas. Pain shot through him, but the visions remained unchanged. He let out a strangled sob, the true horror of his situation beginning to sink in. A security guard approached, likely drawn by Ewan's erratic behavior.

But through Ewan's corrupted vision, the man appeared as a ghoulish creature in tattered pre-war security armor. "Sir, are you all right?" the guard asked, concern evident in his voice. Ewan recoiled, pressing himself against the wall. "Stay back!" he shouted, eyes darting wildly between the guard and the nightmarish environment. "Don't come any closer!"

As the guard reached for his radio, likely to call for backup, Ewan made a split-second decision. He bolted, pushing past startled visitors, desperate to escape the Dunwich Building's influence. But with each step, it became horrifyingly clear. The nightmare wasn't confined to the aquarium. The entire world had been transformed, and Ewan was trapped in a reality that no one else could see.

Ewan burst out of the aquarium, gasping for air that seemed thick with imaginary radiation. The familiar Seattle waterfront had transformed into a nightmarish wasteland. The Great Wheel loomed overhead, its cheerful carriages now appearing as rusted, precarious death traps. Tourists milled about, unknowingly cast as wasteland survivors in Ewan's twisted vision. He stumbled down the boardwalk, trying to make sense of his surroundings.

Every step was a challenge as his brain struggled to reconcile what he saw with what he knew should be there. A hot dog vendor's cart flickered between reality and a ramshackle chemdiller's stand. The mouthwatering smell of grilled onions mingled sickeningly with the imagined stench of toxic waste. "Get it together, Ewan," he muttered, clenching his fists. "It's not real. It can't be."

But every sensation told him otherwise. The wood of the pier felt rough and splintered beneath his feet, despite looking like cracked, irradiated concrete. When he reached out to steady himself against a railing, his hand met cool metal where his eyes saw rusted, tetanus-inducing pipes. A notification pinged in his peripheral vision: "New quest available. Escape from Seattle."

Ewan swatted at the air instinctively, trying to dismiss it, earning strange looks from passerby. He needed help, but how could he explain this to anyone? Ewan spotted a police officer near Pier 57, but through his corrupted vision, the cop appeared as a menacing wasteland raider. He approached cautiously, heart pounding. "O-officer, I-I need help."

Ewan stammered, trying to focus on the man's real features beneath the AR overlay. The policeman tilted his head, concern evident in his voice. "What seems to be the problem, sir?" Ewan opened his mouth, then closed it. How could he possibly explain? "Sorry, officer. I'm trapped in an augmented reality game and can't see the real world anymore." He'd be carted off to a psych ward before he could blink. "I-I'm lost."

Ewan finally managed, the half-truth sticking in his throat. As the officer began giving directions, Ewan's AR interface suddenly flashed red. "Warning: Hostile NPC nearby. Prepare for combat." Panic surged through him. Was the gang going to force him into some kind of conflict? Would he end up attacking an innocent person? "Thank you.

Ewan blurted out, cutting off the officer mid-sentence. He turned and ran, leaving the bewildered policeman behind. As he fled, the reality of his situation sank in. He wasn't just lost in Seattle. He was lost between worlds, with no clear way back. As night fell over Seattle, the AR overlay transformed the city into a haunting wasteland illuminated by a sickly green moon.

Ewan huddled in an alley off Pike Street, which his warped vision rendered as a makeshift shelter in the ruins. Every distant siren became a howl of a feral ghoul, every passing car the rumble of a vertibird. Sleep eluded him, his mind racing with questions and fear.

In the rare moments he did drift off, his dreams were plagued by visions of the Dunwich Building. He saw endless corridors twisting impossibly, heard whispers in languages that hurt to comprehend, and felt an oppressive presence watching his every move. With the dawn came a realization that chilled Ewan to his core.

The Dunwich Building was calling to him. A waypoint pulsed insistently on his HUD, pointing back towards the waterfront. Every fiber of his being screamed to run in the opposite direction, but an inexplicable compulsion tugged at him, growing stronger by the minute. "I can't go back there!" Ewan muttered, pressing his palms against his eyes. But even in the darkness behind his eyelids, eldritch cymbals swam, beckoning him.

As he stumbled out of the alley, a new horror awaited. The people around him had changed overnight. Where before they had flickered between reality and wasteland denizens, now they appeared as grotesque abomination, hybrid creatures that defeated logic and sanity. A businessman's suit melded with power armor. A barista's arms elongated into tentacle-like appendages. Ewan bit back a scream, forcing himself to remember that none of this was real.

But with each passing hour, that certainty weakened. The AR nightmare was seeping into every aspect of his perception, blurring the lines between game lore and reality. Street signs warped into cryptic messages. Fourth Avenue became "Path of the Old Ones," a Starbucks logo twisted into an eldritch sigil that made Ewan's eyes water.

Every reflection showed him not as himself, but as a ragged vault-jweller, eyes sunken and haunted. The pull towards the Dunwich Building grew stronger, an almost physical sensation. Ewan found himself walking towards the waterfront against his will, feet moving of their own accord. In his mind, fragments of lore bubbled up, whispers of ancient rituals, of doors between worlds, of beings that slumbered beneath the earth. It's just a game.

Ewan repeated, a mantra that sounded hollower with each iteration. It's not real. It can't be real. But as the spectral form of the Dunwich building loomed before him once more, a terrifying thought took root. What if, somehow, the game had tapped into something real? What if the horrors of the wasteland were more than just fiction? The doors of the building yawned open, inviting him into their impossible depths.

And despite every instinct screaming at him to run, Ewan stepped forward, drawn inexorably into the heart of the nightmare. Whoa, landing an account this big will totally change my landscaping business. It's gonna mean hiring more guys and more equipment and new trucks for the new guys to drive the new equipment in. I don't know if I'm ready.

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What if I told you there was a building so steeped in dark energy, so corrupted by otherworldly forces, that merely setting foot inside could drive you to the brink of madness? A place where the very walls seem to pulse with malevolent life, where whispers of ancient rituals echo through decaying halls, and where the veil between our world and something far more sinister wears terrifyingly thin.

Today we will explore the Dunwich Building, a location in the post-apocalyptic open-world video game Fallout 3, which was developed by Bethesda Game Studios and released in 2008. In the game's fictional universe, the Dunwich Building is located in the Capital Wasteland, which is the game's term for the post-nuclear war ruins of Washington DC, and the surrounding area.

Before the nuclear apocalypse occurred in the game's timeline, the Dunwich Building was formerly the headquarters of a mining company called Dunwich Borers LLC. The name of the building and some of the themes associated with it are inspired by H.P. Lovecraft's horror fiction, particularly his story, The Dunwich Horror.

In Fallout 3, players have the opportunity to explore the Dunwich Building, where they encounter various enemies and uncover a dark supernatural backstory involving occult practices. The Dunwich Building is known among Fallout players for its creepy atmosphere and unsettling narrative elements, which stand out as especially eerie even in the generally grim setting of the game.

Just imagine, a desolate wasteland stretching as far as the eye can see, a landscape scarred by nuclear devastation, where the ruins of civilization stand as silent monuments to humanity's hubris. It is here, nestled among the rolling, irradiated hills of what was once the capital wasteland, that we find our destination.

The Dunwich Building looms before us, a monolithic structure of weathered concrete and rusted metal. Its windows are dark, empty sockets staring blankly at the desolation. Approaching the entrance, you can't shake the feeling that those sightless eyes are watching your every move, sizing you up like prey. As we step inside, the air grows thick and oppressive. The smell of decay and something far more unsettling assaults your senses.

Debris litters the floor. Fallen ceiling tiles. Scattered papers. And, is that a human skull grinning up at us from the shadows?

But it's not just the physical state of the building that sets your nerves on edge. There's something else here, an almost palpable presence, that seems to ooze from the very walls. It's as if the building itself is alive, aware, and decidedly unfriendly to intruders. What secrets does the Dunwich Building hold?

To unravel this mystery, we must delve into its history. Both the documented facts and the dark legends that have grown around this place like a poisonous vine. Official records tell us that the Dunwich Building was once the headquarters of Dunwich Borers LLC, a pre-war mining and excavation company. On the surface, it appears to be nothing more than a typical corporate office building. But even in those early days, there were whispers of something unusual about the place.

Former employees, those few who are still alive to tell the tale, speak of strange noises emanating from the lower levels. They describe an atmosphere of secrecy and paranoia that permeated the entire operation.

What was Dunwich Borers really up to behind closed doors? Some theorize that the company was involved in weapons development for the military, explaining the tight security and air of mystery. Others suggest more outlandish possibilities: experiments in interdimensional travel, perhaps. Or attempts to harness otherworldly energies.

Whatever the truth, it's clear the Dunwich Boers were engaged in activities far beyond simple mining and construction. When the bombs fell and the world as we knew it ended, the Dunwich building should have been reduced to rubble like so many other structures. Yet it survived, standing defiant against the apocalypse. And in the years that followed, as radiation and chaos reshaped the world, the building seemed to take on a life of its own.

Wasteland settlers and scavengers report increasingly bizarre and terrifying encounters within its walls. Some speak of shadowy figures that vanish when approached, while others describe hearing agonized screams echoing from deep within the structure. Screams that couldn't possibly be human.

But perhaps most chilling are the accounts of those who claim to have experienced lost time within the Dunwich building. They describe entering a room only to find themselves in a completely different part of the structure, hours later, with no memory of how they got there, or what transpired in between.

As we descend deeper into the bowels of this accursed place, the air grows thicker, almost suffocating. The walls seem to press in around us, and strange symbols carved into the concrete catch the beam of our flashlight. These arcane markings bear an unsettling resemblance to those found in certain forbidden texts of eldritch lore.

Could it be that the Dunwich Borers was involved in something far more sinister than mere corporate malfeasance? Did they purposely build their headquarters on a site of dark power, seeking to tap into forces beyond human comprehension? The lowest level of the Dunwich Building holds the key to unlocking its terrible secrets. Here we find evidence of excavation on a massive scale. But what were they digging for?

And, more importantly, what did they find? In the deepest chamber, a cavernous space that feels more like the inside of a malevolent living organism than a man-made structure, we discover the focal point of the building's dark energy. An ancient obelisk, covered in symbols that hurt the eyes to look upon, pulses with an otherworldly green light. Approaching this eldritch monument, reality itself seems to warp and twist.

Visions assault your mind, glimpses of impossible geometries, of vast alien cities that could never exist on Earth, of tentacled horrors lurking just beyond the veil of our reality.

It becomes clear that the Dunwich Building is more than just a haunted structure. It is a doorway, a nexus point between our world and something far vaster and more terrifying. The rituals performed here, the energies harnessed by Dunwich borers, have worn the fabric of reality dangerously thin.

And now, in the aftermath of nuclear devastation, when the old rules of science and reason have been shattered, that doorway stands poised to open wide. What horrors might slip through if that door were fully breached? What nightmarish entities from beyond the stars might set foot in our world?

seeing the ruins of our civilization as ripe for conquest. The Dunwich Building stands as a warning, a testament to humanity's arrogance and our dangerous tendency to meddle with forces beyond our control. It serves as a grim reminder that there are some secrets better left buried, some doors that should remain forever closed.

As we make our way back to the surface, the oppressive atmosphere of the Dunwich Building seems to cling to us like a miasma. The horrors we've witnessed, the truths we've uncovered, will not easily be forgotten. For those brave or foolish enough to seek out this place, be warned. The Dunwich Building is more than just a destination. It's a glimpse into the abyss, a confrontation with terrors that our minds were never meant to comprehend.

And so we leave this accursed place behind, grateful to feel the harsh sunlight of the wasteland on our faces once more. But as we part, a nagging doubt lingers. Have we truly escaped the Dunwich Building's influence? Or have we unwittingly carried a piece of its darkness back with us into the world?

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The pool of the Dunwich building momentarily broken. Ewan stumbled away from the waterfront, his mind reeling. He needed help, desperately. But who could possibly understand, let alone believe, what he was experiencing? With trembling hands, he managed to operate his Pip-Boy-esque phone interface. Relieved to find he could still make calls, he dialed his best friend, Mark.

"Ewan, where've you been, man? I've been trying to reach you since yesterday." Mark's voice was a lifeline to sanity. "I… I need help," Ewan choked out. "Something's gone wrong with the AR game. I can't turn it off. I'm seeing things. Horrible things." There was a pause. "Okay, buddy, calm down. Where are you? I'll come get you."

As Ewan tried to explain his location, he realized with growing horror that he couldn't accurately describe what he was seeing. Every landmark was twisted. Every street name corrupted. "I'm near… I think it's Pike Place, but it looks like a raider camp. There's a… a thing that might be a pig statue, but it's mutated and…" "Ewan, you're not making sense," Mark interrupted, concern evident in his voice.

"Stay where you are. I'm coming to find you." The next hour was a blur of confusion and frustration. Mark drove around the area, guided by Ewan's increasingly frantic and incoherent directions. When they finally met, Ewan could barely contain his relief at seeing a familiar face untouched by the AR corruption. But that relief was short-lived. "Dude, you look like hell," Mark said, eyeing him warily. "What's really going on?"

"Are you on something?" Ewan's attempts to explain his predicament were met with increasing skepticism. No matter how he tried, he couldn't make Mark understand the horror of his situation. His friend's expression shifted from concern to frustration, and finally to a guarded wariness that hurt more than any AR abomination. "Look, I think you need to see someone," Mark finally said.

The possibility was almost more terrifying than the AR nightmare itself.

Desperate, Ewan agreed to visit a doctor. But as they drove to the hospital, his hopes for a solution dimmed. The AR overlay turned the hospital into a decrepit vault medical bay. The doctors into sinister scientists straight out of a Vault-Tec experiment. How could he explain his symptoms without sounding completely insane? How could he convince them that what he was seeing wasn't real, when every fiber of his being was screaming that it was?

As a nurse approached with a clipboard, her form flickering between reality and a grotesque wasteland creature, Ewan made a split-second decision. He couldn't do this. He couldn't risk being locked away, trapped in this nightmare with no hope of escape. With a muttered apology to a startled Mark, Ewan bolted from the hospital waiting room. He ran, not knowing where he was going, only that he had to find another way out of this hell.

Behind him he heard Mark calling his name, the sound mixing with the imagined wail of a distant siren. But Ewan didn't look back. He was on his own now, trapped between worlds, with the growing certainty that the only answers he had found lay within the haunted depths of the Dunwich Building itself.

Time began to blur as Ewan wandered the twisted landscape of Seattle, each hour deepening his isolation. The constant barrage of horrific visions wore away at his sanity like waves eroding a cliff. Sleep, when it came, offered no respite. His dreams a kaleidoscope of vault experiments and eldritch horrors. Everywhere he looked, he saw signs and symbols that seemed to mock his predicament.

Billboard advertisements morphed into cryptic warnings about the old ones. Graffiti tags twisted into arcane glyphs that burned themselves into his mind. Even the clouds seemed to form patterns that hinted at vast cosmic conspiracies. "It's all connected," Ewan muttered, huddled in the corner of an abandoned warehouse. Or was it really an old, rad-away distribution center? He couldn't tell anymore.

The game, the building, the symbols, it's all real. Paranoid theories consumed his thoughts. Had Vault-Tec really existed? Was the game company secretly preparing people for an actual nuclear apocalypse? Each hypothesis, no matter how outlandish, seemed to fit perfectly into the nightmare logic of his new reality.

He began to see patterns in the behavior of the NPCs around him. A group of teenagers laughing on a street corner became a Raider War Council plotting their next move. A homeless man asking for change transformed into a wasteland informant, surely planning to keep tabs on Ewan's movements.

Even the few moments of clarity when the AR overlays seemed to flicker and reveal glimpses of the real world became suspect. Were these genuine glitches in the system, or carefully orchestrated deceptions designed to lull him into a false sense of security? Ewan's Pip-Boy interface chirped incessantly with quest updates and warnings, each one feeding into his growing paranoia.

"Collect 10 iguana on a stick" became a coded message about secret food stockpiles. "Clear the raider hideout" was obviously a call to uncover a government black site. He found himself talking back to the game prompts, arguing with them, trying to decode their hidden meanings. "I know what you're really saying," he hissed at the Pip-Boy, earning worried glances from passerby who only saw a disheveled man yelling at his own arm.

The internet, when he managed to access it through his corrupted interface, offered no comfort. Every article, every forum post seemed to contain hidden messages about the true nature of reality. Theories about simulation hypothesis and quantum immortality no longer seemed like fringe ideas, but vital clues to understanding his predicament. As paranoia tightened its grip, Ewan's thoughts inevitably turned back to the Dunwich Building.

It loomed in his mind, a dark monolith of secrets and revelations. Part of him was convinced that returning there would spell his doom, but another part, growing stronger by the day, whispered that only within its impossible geometries would he find the truth. "I have to know," Ewan decided, his eyes wild and unfocused. "I have to understand." He began to plan his return to the Dunwich Building. This time, he wouldn't be a victim stumbling blindly into its depths.

This time he'd be prepared to uncover whatever dark secrets lay hidden in its corrupted code and eldritch architecture. Ewan's journey back to the Dunwich Building was a fever dream of preparation and research. He scoured every inch of its AR-twisted Seattle, collecting what his warped vision interpreted as vital supplies: bottle caps, scrap electronics, and curiously glowing mushrooms that might have been simple toadstools in reality.

His Pip-Boy interface became a maze of notes and theories. He pored over every scrap of Fallout lore he could remember, cross-referencing it with occult websites and quantum physics papers he barely understood. In his mind, he was piecing together a cosmic puzzle, each fragment of information a vital clue. "The Code," Evan muttered, fingers flying over his Pip-Boy's interface. "It's all in the Code."

He'd become convinced that the AR nightmare was more than just a glitch. It was a door, accidentally opened, to something vast and terrifying. The game's code had tapped into the underlying structures of reality itself, and if he could understand it, maybe he could rewrite it.

Ewan spent hours in public libraries, his AR overlay transforming them into vast vault archives. He scribbled arcane diagrams that melded programming syntax with eldritch symbols, earning worried looks from librarians who saw only a wild-eyed man covering papers with gibberish.

As he worked, Yuan began to notice things, glitches in the AR that seemed to respond to his efforts. Sometimes when he focused intensely on a particular symbol or line of pseudocode, the world around him would flicker, momentarily, revealing the true reality beneath. These glimpses were fleeting, but they fueled Yuan's determination. He was on the right track. He had to be.

but the deeper yuin delved into his research the more the line blurred between solving his predicament and unravelling the mysteries of the universe was he trying to fix a game glitch or was he on the verge of understanding the fundamental nature of reality

The night before his planned return to the Dunwich Building, Ewan hardly slept. He spent hours performing what he believed were vital rituals, a blend of game mechanics and half-remembered occult practices. He drew a chalk circle on the floor of his hideout, lined with a mix of computer code and eldritch signs. "I have to get this right," he said to the empty room, his voice hoarse from days of muttered calculations. "Everything depends on it."

As dawn broke, Ewan emerged from his self-imposed exile. To any observer, he would have looked like a homeless man in dire need of help. Unwashed, unshaven, eyes wild with a fervent light. But in Ewan's mind, he was a wastelander hero, armed with knowledge, ready to face the final boss. He set out towards the waterfront, towards the Dunwich building that loomed in his fractured perception.

Each step felt heavy with purpose, as if the fate of multiple realities hung in the balance.

What Ewan didn't realize was that his erratic behavior over the past few days had not gone unnoticed. As he walked with singular focus towards his destination, a worried mark followed at a distance, accompanied by a mental health professional. They watched with growing concern as Ewan approached the ordinary Seattle Aquarium, clearly seeing something very different.

The stage was set for a confrontation, not just between Ewan and the eldritch horrors of his AR nightmare, but between his distorted reality and the real world that sought to help him. As he stood before the Dunwich Building spectral doors, Ewan took a deep breath, stilling himself for whatever lay ahead. "It ends here," he declared, stepping forward in the mouth of madness.

The moment Ewan crossed the threshold of the Dunwich building, reality itself seemed to fracture. The familiar interior of the Seattle Aquarium warped and twisted, transforming into an impossible labyrinth of decaying corridors and pulsing organic walls. The air grew thick with the stench of decay and ozone, each breath a struggle against the oppressive atmosphere. Ewan's Pip-Boy crackled with static, its screen flickering.

Initialize final sequence, it displayed, before dissolving into a mess of corrupted pixels. I'm ready, Ewan muttered, his voice echoing strangely in the shifting space. He began to recite the code he had memorized, a mix of programming commands and incantations.

As he ventured deeper, the building seemed to react to his presence. Shadows writhed at the corner of his vision, taking on half-formed shapes that defied comprehension. Whispers in an alien tongue filled his ears, growing louder with each step. Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through his daze. "Ewan, stop!"

He turned to see Mark and a woman he didn't recognize standing at the entrance, their forms flickering between reality and the AR nightmare. For a moment, Ewan's perception cleared, and he saw the truth. He was standing in the middle of a normal aquarium exhibit, surrounded by concerned staff and visitors. But the moment passed, reality once again overtaken by the horrors of his mind.

The newcomers were now part of his twisted narrative, NPCs in his cosmic quest, or perhaps agents of whatever dark forces controlled this realm. "You don't understand," Ewan called back, his voice tinged with manic energy. "I'm so close to cracking the code, to understanding everything."

He turned away from them, pushing deeper into the heart of the Dunwich Building. The walls pulsed faster, the air grew thicker, and Ewan felt as if he was wading through layers of reality. At last he reached the central chamber. In his mind, a vast cavern dominated by a swirling vortex of code and cosmic energy. In reality, the aquarium's main tank, home to countless sea creatures.

Ewan raised his arms, beginning the final sequence of his meticulously prepared ritual. Lines of code spilled from his lips, interspersed with guttural chants. The vortex before him spun faster, reality bending around its edges. In that moment, as the boundaries between worlds grew thin, Ewan saw everything.

parallel realities, cosmic truths, the underlying code of existence itself. All laid bare before his mind's eye. He understood, at last, the true nature of his predicament. But understanding brought no relief. The horror of cosmic insignificance, the terrifying vastness of multiple realities, the mind-bending nature of existence itself. It was too much for any human mind to bear. Ewan screamed.

The sound lost in the roar of collapsing realities. He felt himself being torn apart. His consciousness scattered across multiple planes of existence. Mark and the mental health professional watched in horror as Ewan collapsed, his body convulsing as his mind retreated from reality. Aquarium staff rushed to help. The mundane emergency, a stark contrast to the cosmic drama playing out in Ewan's fractured psyche.

As darkness closed in, Ewan had one final, terrible realization. He had indeed uncovered the truth behind the AR nightmare. But some truths are too horrifying to know. In seeking to escape his digital prison, he had trapped himself in a far more terrifying reality. The Dunwich Building had claimed another victim, its eldritch influence reaching far beyond the confines of any single world or reality.

The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital room slowly came into focus as Ewan's eyes fluttered open. The steady beep of a heart monitor replaced the chaotic sounds of his nightmares. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, his vision was clear. No Pip-Boy interface, no wasteland overlays, just the stark reality of a medical facility. "He's awake!" a nurse called out. Her voice tinged with surprise and relief.

Mark's concerned face appeared in Ewan's field of view. "Hey, buddy. You really had us worried there." Ewan tried to speak, but his throat was dry and raw. A doctor stepped into view, checking his vitals and shining a light into his eyes. "Mr. Matthews," the doctor said, her tone cautious but kind. "You've been in a comatose state for the past week. Do you remember what happened?"

The memories came flooding back. The AR game. The Dunwich building. The descent into madness. Ewan's heart rate spiked, the monitor beeping frantically. "It's okay," the doctor reassured him. "You're safe now." The AR malfunction affected several users. The game company has issued a recall. Ewan relaxed slightly, comforted by the explanation.

It had all been a malfunction, a bad trip caused by faulty technology. As the days passed and his strength returned, Ewan shared his experiences with psychologists and tech experts. They nodded understandingly, talking about the dangers of immersive technology and the power of the mind to create convincing realities.

Weeks later, Ewan stood outside the hospital, breathing in the fresh Seattle air. The world looked normal. No wasteland. No cosmic horrors. Just a bustling city going about its day. "Ready to go home?" Mark asked, car keys in hand. Ewan nodded, managing a smile. As they drove through the city, he felt a weight lifting off his shoulders. The nightmare was over. He was cured. They pulled up to Ewan's apartment building.

Want me to come up with you? Mark offered. No, I'll be fine, Ewan assured him. Thanks for everything, ma'am. Ewan took the elevator up to his floor, fumbling with his keys as he reached his apartment door. He stepped inside, flicking on the lights, and froze. His apartment was exactly as he had left it weeks ago, with one chilling difference.

Covering every surface, the walls, the floors, even the ceiling, were papers filled with the same mix of code and eldritch symbols he had scrawled during his descent into madness. In the center of the room stood a familiar shape, a Vault-Tec terminal, its screen flickering to life as he watched. A message appeared. "Welcome back, Player One. Reality simulation disengaged. True game begins now."

Ewan's breath caught in his throat as he felt the familiar weight of a Pip-Boy materializing on his arm. The walls of his apartment began to waver and distort. In that moment, Ewan understood the terrifying truth. His nightmare hadn't ended. It had only leveled up. The hospital, the recovery, the return to normalcy, it had all been another layer of the game. A false reality designed to lull him into a false sense of security.

As his apartment dissolved around him, transforming into the familiar horrifying corridors of the Dunwich Building, Ewan realized he was trapped in a game far more complex and terrifying than he could have ever imagined. A game where reality itself was the final boss, and escape might be truly impossible.

The last thing Ewan heard before the world completely shifted was the distant, mocking laughter of whatever cosmic entity had ensnared him with this endless nightmare. Game over? Or was it just beginning? Thank you for joining us on our journey to the Dunwich Building. I'm Carmen Carrion. Remember, you can send me suggestions or stories of haunted places to my email, carmencarrion at gmail dot com.

or follow me on X at Carmen Carrion. Go to eeriecast.com to find other terrifying podcasts, such as Freaky Folklore, hosted by me, Carmen Carrion. Until next time, stay safe out there, until I see you at our next destination.